The Girl With Four Faces

There was a girl with four faces,

For different people and different places.

One for her mother,

One for her father,

One for everybody,

And one for her closest friends.

The one for her mother was pretty,

Just like colored glass.

Each feature more perfect,

Than the last.

The one for her father,

Was sporty and tough,

Meant to make her,

Look very rough.

The one for everybody was happy,

Never showing pain.

Smart and educated,

Nobody could have guessed how the tears fell like rain.

The face for her friends was truthful,

It told everything.

It showed pleasure,

And pain.
It showed the tears that fell like rain.

Then the day came when the girl with four faces,

Couldn't take it anymore.

She cried tears of relief,

As she sat on the floor,

With the knife blade.

The one for her mother,

Shattered like glass.

The one for her father,

Stopped being sporty,

At last.

The one for everybody,
Finally showed pain.

The one for her friends,

Stayed the same.

Her friends guessed it would happen,

But arrived too late.

They found her on the bathroom floor,

Still holding the blade.

They cried,

Not just because she had died.

But because of the look of peace on her face.

The girl with four faces had finally made one.

And escaped her prison of life.